Pinned by the five-star zombie, Chen Liu twisted his head, desperation clawing at his chest. The zombie’s fangs missed his neck, sinking into his shoulder, piercing to the bone. No, he thought, his face contorted with pain. “Ahhh!” he howled. The sound was raw and soul-chilling. Beyond agony, terror gripped him—his blood draining as if through a syringe, reducing him to prey. I’m just meat to it. His eyes were wide with horror.

But pain sparked defiance. A surge of strength erupted. Propping himself with his left hand, Chen Liu flipped the zombie off, tearing its fangs from his shoulder with a shudder. He ignored the flesh ripping away. Move. He was in a trance-like state, detached from pain.  Then, he drew his dagger and stabbed the zombie’s skull in one fluid motion. Did I just do that? His eyes flashed with disbelief. The counterattack was instinctual, a fleeting epiphany he couldn’t replicate.

As he escaped, Zhang Chong faced worse. Fang Ruoming, battered by a five-star, coughed blood, his face ashen. Zhang, pinned by another five-star, was drained. His face was grey with blood loss. He’ll turn if I don’t act, Chen Liu thought, struggling to his feet, shoulder throbbing, his expression grim with resolve. Two hundred meters separated them—too far. Fate decides now, he thought grimly.

Fang stirred, eyes flickering open. Seeing Zhang pinned, the “scaredy-cat” didn’t hesitate. With his last strength, he slammed into the zombie, knocking it down, then collapsed. Zhang, slumped and shaken, stared at Fang, with gratitude in his eyes. He saved me, Zhang thought. The zombie, enraged, lunged at Fang’s limp form.

“Ugly freak! Come suck me dry!” Zhang roared with a mix of fury and despair. Chen Liu caught the zombie off guard, cleaving its skull in two. Just in time. His face slick with sweat, but his mind was flooded with relief. He checked Fang’s breath: still alive. “He’s breathing,” he told Zhang.

Zhang sagged, a weak smile breaking through. “Knew that scaredy-cat wouldn’t quit.” They locked eyes, sharing a weary grin, bonded by the fight. We’re in this together now, Chen Liu thought.

Too close to the admin building, they couldn’t linger. Chen Liu grabbed the crystals—two five-star whites, two four-star whites—handing the five-star to Fang’s pack. “For him,” Zhang said, his voice firm. Chen Liu nodded, and they carried Fang, retreating before dusk. No more five-stars, please, Chen Liu thought.

At the cafeteria, their bloodied, battered state—dragging Fang and bulging packs—shocked the guards. Chen Liu ignored their stares, settled Fang safely, and meditated, absorbing the crystals. Heals faster this way. His shoulder’s throb eased, and his face stayed calm despite the pain.

At dinner, Zhang joined him. “Got two bowls of meat soup from the kitchen. One’s for Fang later,” he declared warmly. He cares about the kid. Chen Liu smiled. Li Dong approached, tray in hand, sitting across them. The air grew heavy.

“You hit the security room?” Li Dong probed. “Yeah,” Chen Liu said, his eyes meeting Li Dong’s. Zhang shifted, looking sheepish but defiant. We earned it in blood, Chen Liu thought. No one owned that gear.

“How bad was it?” Li Dong pressed.

Chen Liu’s eyes darkened. “Admin building’s a nest. Three five-stars and a four-star, just in the hallway. Tough fight.” Li Dong’s jaw dropped, shock breaking his calm facade, drawing gasps from nearby survivors. He’s rattled, Chen Liu observed. Li Dong straightened, masking his unease, but his confidence faltered.

“Organise a team to clear it tomorrow,” Chen Liu urged. “Strike first, or a seven-star spawns, and we’re done.” Seven-star zombies marked high-tier territory, actively seeking prey, unlike lower ranks.

Li Dong hesitated. Clearing the building was no small task. Chen Liu leaned in. “I won’t take any gear left there.” Sweeten the deal, he thought calculatively. 

“Alright. Tomorrow,” Li Dong agreed, trying to hide the strain in his voice. Chen Liu nodded. No rest in this world, he thought, the apocalypse was cruelty in form.

After dinner, Chen Liu turned to Zhang. “Keep the gear we need. Sell the rest tonight. Recruits will want it for tomorrow.” They’ll pay to survive, he anticipated. Zhang grinned, eyes gleaming. “I’ll get top price.” His local ties made him perfect for the job. Smart pick, Chen Liu thought, a flicker of approval in his eyes.

Stab-proof armour sold for one four-star crystal each. Recruits cursed Zhang’s greed but paid, knowing the admin building raid loomed. Life’s worth more than crystals, Chen Liu thought, his face set with grim acceptance.

thINKer: This time, I thought someone was really gonna die